


Midnight Revelations

by intheKnickoftime



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, I wrote most of this at an ungodly hour, Introspection, Maybe - Freeform, Run-On Sentences, Will is sad and thinks too much, is this poetic??? I don't really know, kywi softness, make of this what you will, maybe it's a mess but I kind of vibe with it, of course there is it's written by me what else would there be, somebody get this man a hug, this is becoming a habit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25980193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheKnickoftime/pseuds/intheKnickoftime
Summary: In which William Hawkes realizes three important things.
Relationships: William Hawkes/Kym Ladell
Comments: 13
Kudos: 65





	Midnight Revelations

It is late, and by all accounts he should be home already, but for whatever reason he finds himself lingering, coat in hand. The office is, Will decides, quite peaceful at night, wide swathes of cool moonlight streaming through the windows.

There is a strange clarity to his thoughts as he stands among the empty desks, the barest loosening of his walls when there is nobody else around to keep up appearances for.

And on the heels of that clarity comes an inescapable revelation, one that blindsides him and strikes him as surely as if it were a physical weapon. And Will considers the reasons  _ why _ he finds himself reluctant to go home, inspects the walls he has built and finds them worn, cracked at the foundations. He, too, has become wearied by this charade of normalcy.

And then the tears come unbidden, finally bursting from walls that have been keeping his emotions in and others determinedly out. They’re escaping in a torrent now, and Will isn’t sure when he fell to his knees, but that’s where he finds himself nonetheless: alone on the floor of the precinct’s office, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs and tear tracks on his face. And the first of the night’s revelations comes to him, a brutal truth he had thought he could hide from:

He cannot handle it. He has been pretending for too long, and now finds himself trying to shoulder a burden that he cannot carry, and that nobody truly knows of.

“What are you doing on the floor?”

Will stiffens, torn between dropping his hands and hiding his face- he doesn’t want anyone to see him like this. But his eyes, lashes tear-dampened and clinging together, flick up to see who has stayed behind. And the pair of eyes he meets are that familiar shade of sharp amber, because of  _ course _ it would be Kym to see him at his lowest. Of  _ course. _

He gets hurriedly to his feet, gaze darting away again. Kym is standing feet away, coat tucked around her shoulders, eyeing him with more curiosity than anything. She is studying him, trying to make sense of this, and he swears he can  _ feel _ the shift in the air when she realizes-

“You’ve been crying,” she murmurs, eyes widening, and her tawny gaze is actually  _ softening _ and Will doesn’t think he can stand pity, not from her, and he turns away, brushing the tracks from his cheeks, not finding it within himself to care about his dampened, wrinkled uniform sleeves.

“I’m fine,” he bites out. It comes out harsher than he means it to, a rusted edge against stone, and he can feel her balk without seeing, and  _ why _ can he still see her concerned face in his mind’s eye?

“Liar,” Kym fires right back at him, a strange tone to her voice. And then her hands are on his shoulders, her eyes pinning his, and Will finds himself confronted with his second realization of the night, this one accompanied not by sorrow but by a terrible vulnerability.

Kym Ladell has just seen more of him than he ever wanted to show  _ anyone _ , least of all  _ her,  _ this coworker of his who seems to delight in fatiguing him.

And yet- there’s no trace of her customary mirth now, as she looks silently at him and he looks at her. Her brow is furrowed, lips pressed in a tight line and fingers drumming absently in the hold she still has on his shoulders.

Her grip shifts to his hand, and Will finds himself dragged from the precinct and onto nighttime streets, lanterns casting a fiery glow in contrast with the ice of the moon.

“What are you doing?” He demands, finally finding his voice as the doors swing shut behind them. “Why were you still at the office? I thought-”

“The work of Soleil never rests, my dear Lieutenant,” Kym announces, shifting her coat to reveal a file of papers. “I found some most interesting materials tonight, and  _ you _ are coming home with me to look at them.”

“Excuse me?” Will sputters, stopping in his tracks. Kym releases her hold on his wrist and turns on her heels to stare at him again, looking exasperated. “I am  _ not _ letting you abduct me, Ladell.”

She falls silent at that, eyes searching once more, and if looks could kill? He wouldn’t be dead, because she doesn’t look  _ angry _ but her gaze is piercing and steady, and yet again he finds himself stuck on it.

“Do you want to go home tonight? To your house?” she asks finally.

It is a simple question, and the answer should be easy. Yet as he opens his mouth to answer he falters.

“I- no,” he admits at last, rubbing wearily at his eyes. “That’s the last place I want to be right now.”

“You need something to clear your head,” Kym declares, her voice quiet now but no less sure. “What do you say, partner- files and coffee?” She’s laying the bravado on thick tonight, exuding enough of it for the both of them, but Will finds himself shooting a hesitant half-smile back at her.

“It’s midnight, Kym. Who drinks coffee at midnight?”

“Our minds must be sharp for investigation!” Kym crows by way of justification. “Come along, Willame!”

And with no further warning, he is stumbling agan, Kym’s hand clutching his wrist again as they head down the street, the tear tracks beginning to dry on Will’s face.

\- - - - -

His third and final revelation of the night comes in a most unexpected circumstance. Coffee in hand, seated on the couch in Kym Ladell’s sitting room, doing what could technically be considered as  _ work _ in the quiet hours of the night. And yet somewhere between the warm mug in his hands and Kym’s thoughtful presence at his shoulder, he decides that it doesn’t feel so much like work after all.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks her, half-slurred with tiredness and the remainder of his tears, glancing furtively at her from over the rim of his mug. “I thought you despised me.”

“Oh, I do,” Kym says, punching his shoulder. “But if anyone’s going to make you cry, I’d rather it be me.”

“Hmm. I’m touched.”

“And-” he turns to look her in the eye at the catch in her voice. “I guess- we’re kind of in this together, aren’t we? As Soleil, I mean. Maybe a truce is in order. You know. Temporarily.”

“Maybe so,” Will responds, with the barest of smiles.

And when they shake hands, her calluses brushing his skin, Will finds that he doesn’t despise Kym Ladell after all. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> me: you know, I should really stop staying up till 2am to write-  
> my brain: ah, but here is the first few lines of a fic. run wild.
> 
> this is random and vague and soft and _highly_ self-indulgent. What can I say? If you still aren't aware of how much of a sucker for kywi I am.. well. There's more content in this line coming along to further cement this fact.
> 
> Kudos and comments make me grin like the sucker I am <3


End file.
